I : Emotion
by ohgleegasms
Summary: Installion 1 of a series: a GG fanfic. The story about a girl who loves two men; a girl who needs to decide what to follow - her heart or her insecurity. This is my story - this is Blair Waldorf's story. Rated M for sexual themes.
1. Preface

So, to preface this work I must say just a few simple things.

First of all, I own nothing. None of the characters, none of the names, nothing like that.

Also, I have quoted one of the episodes of Gossip Girl in the very beginning of this writing. The flashback – yes, that's not mine! So credit goes to the Gossip Girl writers. =)

Thirdly, inspiration for the first chapter about Chuck has come from the song "How to Save a Life" by The Fray (which is also quoted in the work) – so thank those lovely, sexy and wonderful performers for that.

Finally, the inspiration behind this entire piece (aside from my own heart) is the quote that Blair writes at the very end. Credit to Neil Gaiman for that. He will forever be a hero to me, for writing that beautiful, heartfelt selection.

Another work, less abstract yet just as heartfelt (well, for me).

As always, enjoy and please feel free to critique!

All my love,

Tori


	2. Chuck: Celebration

[four hours ago]__

"Nate's waiting for me to give him an answer."

"I heard."

"Do you wanna know what's stopping me?…I can't answer his question while I'm waiting for you to answer mine. And when I asked you forever ago; what are we Chuck?"

"Blair…"

"Last fall you said we couldn't be together. And I believed you. But every time I try to move on, you're right there. Acting like-"

"Acting like what?"

"Like, maybe…you just want me to be as unhappy as you are."

"I would never wish that on anyone. I want you to be happy."

"Then look down deep into the soul I know you have, and tell me if what you feel for me is real, or if it's just a game. If it's real, we'll figure it out. All of us. But if it's not, then please Chuck, just let me go."

"It's just a game. I hate to lose. You're free to go."

"Thank you."

[the present]

Chuck's ears had been so attuned to the words she spoke, eyes so focused upon her beautiful face – watching tears well in her large eyes, eventually cascading down her cheeks as she spoke the words that lay so heavily upon her heart. He had never heard Serena approach them from behind; never realizing that Blair's eyes had shifted to his right just slightly, staring into the penetrating blue-eyed gaze of her best friend. Begrudgingly he had lied to Blair, lying the cruelest, most underhanded lie he could ever concoct. "It's just a game," he whispers to himself as he stands on the roof of The Palace, clutching a high ball in his right hand. He lifts it in salute to the full moon above, smiling faintly through his drunken stupor. "Just a game, you hear me?" he cries out to the stars, whose luminescent glow interrupts the dark canvas of nightfall above him.

Tears fall from his bloodshot eyes; burning tears of salt and pain that sting his cheeks and do not appease the mourning of his heart. "Just a game," he whispers softly to no one in particular. His phone is downstairs in his suite – neglected. His friends are in the bar – forgotten. His emotions are chained to his heart – bruised. Under the pressure of knowing he could never make Blair happy, he had to let her go.

Who had known it would hurt so badly?

"Step one – you say we need to talk," croons Chuck, slurring the words in his drunken attempt to sing. The haunting melodic tune of the piano, the harmonic voices of the singer from The Fray – it had been ringing in his mind all night. It was inescapable; the pain, the remorse. Not remembering the words, he continues to hum along until he reaches the chorus, then bursting into his dissonant melody once more. "Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness. And would I have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life."

Salute falls, glass reaching his lips. Head is tilted back as the honey-hued liquid is poured into his mouth. He can no longer feel the burn, having lost count of his scotches this evening; in fact, he is unaware of the loss of feeling in his toes; the weakness that forms within his knees. He gulps the alcohol, finishing the glass. He casts the highball aside, too eagerly and the glass shatters into a thousand pieces. It sprays across the concrete rooftop and he stares down, watching the pieces that glisten in the moonlight. "Like the pieces of my heart," he whispers to himself.

Collapsing onto the ledge beside him, he lets his shoeless feet dangle over the edge. One sock has disappeared, bare foot covered in dirt from traipsing around up here. The other sock is cluttered with dirt as well, big toe peeking through a hole that grows through the night. His shoes are gone, forgotten – likely in his suite. His suit jacket is crumpled in a ball on the floor of his bedroom; the remainder of his suit now gives him a disheveled appearance. Shirt is only half-buttoned, torn on one sleeve from where he caught it in the heavy metal door that separates the roof from the hotel. Pants are unbuttoned and the hems are covered in grime; too long to be worn without his shoes.

He is the ghost of the man he was but hours before.

Humming softly to himself, he drowns out the memories, the pain that he wishes was so dull, yet loudly echoes in his heart. Stricken, remorseful he wonders if he did the right thing. He could never make Blair happy, so why kid himself? She deserved Nate – someone who could make her smile. Someone who didn't play games.

But he loves her.

Drowning in his memories, he falls silent, staring down at the city streets below him; wondering...waiting.

__


	3. Serena: Intervention

Serena van der Woodsen sits quietly in solitude on the balcony of the van der Bass/Humphrey suite of The Palace. Blair had just left only moments before, whisking off to get her beauty rest before finally coming forward to Nate – finally giving him his answer in the morning. Serena sighs, right hand rummaging through the long, thick mass of blonde waves that tangles its way down past her shoulders. It wasn't right – any of it. Chuck's words echo within her mind: _"I love her…and I can't make her happy."_ But Blair had waited – waited to give Nate an answer until she was certain that Chuck no longer wanted her.

She would choose second-best, because it was her only option.

Heart aching for Chuck; aching for Blair; aching for Nate. Forgotten was her own agonizing over Dan – for it seems this triangle of forbidden lovers has taken precedence over all of their lives. How unfortunate it is that Nate is second in line for Blair's heart, her love. He had been her 'everything' since they were five…how sudden it had become that Chuck could replace him.

But who was she to judge?  
She, the queen of irrational.

Perhaps the one she pities most is Chuck; his love for Blair was so obvious to her, but he felt unworthy of her. Serena was stuck in the middle – able to see how much Blair wanted Chuck and how much Chuck adored Blair. But – somehow things weren't falling together, and she was unsure if she should intervene or not.

Pondering this thought, transfixed as her gaze locks itself upon the stars, she suddenly hears a familiar voice echoing through Manhattan. Head jerks upward, realization striking that the voice is coming from iabove/i her two floors. The floor directly above her is Chuck's penthouse suite – which can mean only one thing.

Someone is on the roof.

Mind is still processing the notion that Chuck was the only one with access to the roof as her feet are already in flight, carrying her through her suite and into the hallway. Not bothering with the elevator she dashes up the stairs, she reaches the topmost floor in record time. Panting, she pauses in the doorway, listening. The heavy metal door is clipped open just a hint, enough for her to shoulder against it, muscling it open.

There he sits, silhouetted against the full moon and dark sky, hands waving as he sings to himself – off-key and (obviously) drunk.

"Chuck," she says softly, so as not to startle him. He jumps, however, nearly toppling over the edge. Serena gasps, tempted to dash to his aide but refusing to move too quickly. His position is too precarious – too unnerving. "Chuck, what are you doing?" she asks him, slowly closing the gap between the two.

"Shurenah you shcared me," he slurs, chuckling. She, however, is not amused and does not return his gesture of amusement. Scowling slightly, she shakes her head.

Such disappointment she has in him; and Blair, too, in fact. "Chuck, come here," she says to him – tone gentle, but with a tone of command. "Come hug me. Please." He freezes, staring at her. Eyes wide, innocence of a child reflected in them, he does not move a moment.

Then suddenly he is moving, falling into her arms. She can feel wetness forming between them, her satin nightgown damp with the tears that flee from his eyes as he sobs against her. Arms lace around his body, holding him closer. For some time – she loses track – the duo stands on the rooftop. Chuck's head is nestled against her chest (in any normal circumstance, she would be disturbed and he would be turned on), but she keeps him nestled there, fingers idly stroking his hair as she whispers to him. Words of nothing, nonsense really, calming him, soothing him.

In time, the sobs fade and she is left holding nothing but a silent ghost, clinging to the last ounces of life within his body.

Finally, he surrenders and she leads him from the rooftop, relief washing over her like a flood as he meekly follows her. She brings him to his suite and before she knows it, he has collapsed onto his bed in exhaustion. Exhausted herself, she lets herself fall onto the edge of his bed, stroking his hair as she watches him sleep. One tear forms, cascading down her cheek as she lingers near her friend – one of her best friends – while her mind tries to keep up with the emotion of it all.

Was it so bad to wish to be loved? Oh Chuck, she knows the feeling so well.  
Desolate longing that fades into forgotten adoration.

Weary eyes collapse, lids closing as she falls, powerless to the temptation of sleep. Her dreams are haunted – haunted with memories, with love, with heartache, with pain.


	4. Blair: Misinterpretation

So strong she had been; such an independent nature she had portrayed to Serena. Sitting on the balcony, giggling and drinking cosmopolitans – she had proven herself to be such the actress yet again. Confidence had been exuding itself from her every pore, smiles all around as the girls laughed, kidding about planning the Waldorf x Archibald wedding.

In the darkness now, she weeps.

Having returned home to find Dorota waiting up, Blair had put on her best act (yet again), informing her that she had been right all along. Nate was the one, they were to live happily ever after and that Chuck had been nothing more than a jerk who used her. Dorota did not appear to be convinced – much to Blair's chagrin – but had finally left Blair in peace after pressing her with a few questions. The last words exchanged were a promise from Dorota to have breakfast ready by eight, so Blair could prepare for her meeting with Nate.

But now, in her solitude, she feels her heart shattering.

_"It is just a game.."_

The words had hit harder than a freight train as they slipped from his lips. She hadn't even fully processed them until much later; even now, as she cowers in her bedroom with her knees tucked tightly to her chest, does she come to realize; she meant nothing to him. Broken lies, broken dreams – broken heart! "I cannot believe I let myself ever think he could love me," she whispers to herself. "Me, a Waldorf, believing that a Bass could have a heart of anything but stone." Bitterness sweeps over the tones in which she speaks, tears spilling from her cheeks, burning the skin as she flushes at the mere thought. "I will show him, I will show everyone. Blair Waldorf does not lose."

No, she would not lose.  
She would have everything with Nate, tomorrow.

But it is restlessly that she succumbs to slumber – heart and mind wrestling with one another. Nate was the one she had loved all along. Nate was her prince charming, the boyfriend she had since kindergarten. _The one who had lost his virginity to her best friend, Serena._ She shakes the thought from her mind. He loved her – he still loves her. _But does he also love Serena?_ Biting her lip, she sobs softly against her knees.

Chuck, the unsung hero, the unpredictable one, her unexpected lover. No one would have foreseen it; but together they made for an unbeatable team. How many times had he been unfaithful? She had no idea. How many women had been with him? She didn't want to know. How many had been told that he loved them? _Her… and Serena._ She scowls slightly.

Serena – always Serena! To her _knowledge_ Serena had never slept with Chuck – but a mere kiss from the blonde angel had driven him mad enough to profess his undying love for her.

_We were kids. She means nothing to him. _

She considers now the look on Serena's face as she eavesdropped, hearing Chuck say that he was letting Blair go. Reflecting upon this, Blair wonders – had that been a look of triumph upon her friends' face as she heard the words fall from his lips? Could it be?...

Finally, sleep finds her – and Blair Waldorf sleeps fitfully, dreaming of Nate, of Chuck – and of a Serena-free life.

[four hours later]

The first peeking of sunrise decorates the sky and though heavy drapes prevent the sunlight from penetrating and therefore disrupting Blair's slumber, she wakes quickly and readily, earlier than planned. She eats nothing, picking at a muffin as she runs it through her mind – the words she will use to tell Nate everything. It had to be perfect; absolutely perfect.

Then it dawns on her – maybe she should make absolutely _certain_ that Chuck is ready to let her go;  
after all, she cannot afford for him to cause this to backfire, for this is her final chance.

Smoothing her red gingham dress as she rises (reminiscent of Dorothy, she supposes, but it's flattering and sexy in an innocent way), and after bidding Dorota farewell, she instructs her driver to take her to The Palace. Settling back against the leather seats, stroking them idly with her fingertips (mind trailing back to thoughts of one rash night in the Bass limo; thighs still warm at the consideration). As the car pulls to the front of the hotel, she states that she will be 'only a moment' and, fingering the key that Chuck had given to her as she holds it in one hand, she presses the button to the penthouse suite.

The dinging of the bell prompts her to prepare for arrival. However, shock scatters across her face as the door opens and there stands -

"Serena?"

The tall, leggy blonde pivots gracefully; beautiful despite her disheveled appearance. Her nightgown is wrinkled and slightly torn (having caught it on the metal door when searching for Chuck), exposing a bit too much of her perfect thighs. Her makeup is smudged, mascara coating beneath each of her eyes. Her hair is messily topped upon her head, falling in messy curls around her face. She looks – stunning. But she screams whore, she screams harlot, she screams one night stand.

And who is it holding her hands when Blair notices them?  
(Thanking her for saving him, taking care of him; but how is our brunette heroine to know this?)

"Blair!" Shock is the way to describe Serena's tone; though the blonde had an innocent heart on this matter, Blair misreads this as guilt. Coldly she offers the duo a half-smile; faked.

"Ah, nice to see the two of you bonding – sibling love perhaps? Or just suffering over your losses? Are you enjoying consoling my _best friend_ over losing Frumphrey Humphrey?" Blair sneers, glaring daggers at Chuck. He stares at her, incredulous.

But before either can argue, Blair is gone.

Head spiraling with rage and a forlorn nature, Blair begins to sob as the elevator doors close, noting that neither tries to stop her. (How could they? She is unstoppable by nature.) She reaches the ground floor and dashes into the bathroom. After ensuring that nobody is present, she falls to her knees. Arms clutch the toilet base close to her as she sobs recklessly. "Fuckin'…Serena," she gasps as she lifts her left hand to her lips, muscles tensing as she braces herself.

No one is around to hear the gagging, the choking, the sobs that shake her body.  
Then the ghost of Blair Waldorf leaves the bathroom, returns to her limo, and makes her way to the Archibald's.


	5. Nate: Confusion

Staring down at his cell phone, Nate sighs softly. Three in the morning, he received a text message from Blair, stating that she would be coming by early the next morning. He had been asleep, but the sound had woken him and then he had been unable to fall into any restful sleep. His mind had been churning, haunted with the possibilities. Undoubtedly she had spoken to Chuck – but what had he told her? Chuck had promised to stay out of their affairs, but that didn't seem possible. Chuck was a meddler and to Nate's knowledge, Blair was the only woman he had claimed to love.

_A one night stand with Serena had been far less complicated than a relationship of old with Blair. _

He shakes the thought from his head, exhaling. How could he let such notions torture his mind? The one night stand had caused him to lose Blair – and Serena. His two best friends; the girl of his dreams and the love of his life…stripped from him. Sitting down on his bed, he stares at his phone, considering.

What had Blair been doing that she was awake at three in the morning?  
Had she texted him from Chuck's suite?...  
…he cannot help but wonder.

Misery seems to be his best company, lately. Still torn between Serena and Blair, he comes to accept that Blair would be the – better choice, for lack of better phrasing. Serena views him as nothing more than a friend; even her kisses at the white party had been heated, yet she pulled away so quickly, so ready to fall into the arms of Dan Humphrey.

Though he had new respect for Dan, he still couldn't handle losing a woman to him.  
Brooklyn, Cabbage Patch, Raggedy Andy that he was.

Caressing his chin as he sits, deep in thought, Nate doesn't even hear the front door open, does not hear the maid knocking at his door. In fact, it isn't until she is standing directly in front of him that he glances upward into her eyes. "Oh," he says. "Yes?"

"Miss Blair Waldorf is here for you," she responds.

Nodding, he almost smiles. Almost. "Please bring her up," he answers and she nods before silently padding downstairs.

Within moments, Blair materializes in the doorway to his bedroom. He stands, casting his phone aside. "Blair," he breathes as he looks at her. Frame is perfectly accented by the red dress that she wears, white and red checkers decorating it. He knows she's told him the name for it before, but he can't remember. "You look, wow," he says to her, watching Blair with hopefulness in his eyes.

Her own eyes, hollow, emotionless, lock with his. Heart sinks as he wonders – what could this mean? This faded, blank expression that she holds? But then, suddenly she smiles – faintly, but all the same she smiles – and she moves to him. Soundlessly she falls against his chest, hugging him. His arms drop, holding her close to his body.

_Am I second best? Did Chuck reject you and that's why you're here, or did you choose me?_

He longs to ask, but his heart cannot take the answer.  
He knows the truth; but he doesn't wish to hear her say it.

She finally speaks, though, and he listens attentively. "I love you," she whispers against his chest; though the words are muffled, he can decipher. Right hand lifts to tousle her hair, just slightly, before his fingers disappear between silky strands.

"I love you too Blair," he responds as he presses a kiss to the top of her head, feeling warmth – tears? – as she presses her body against his. Confusion settles over his limbs, holding her closer. "Blair, baby are you okay?" he whispers against her hair as he feels her shuddering, sobbing. Slowly she begins to relax, then pulling away.

"I just – missed you," comes her answer.

He cannot help but believe this to be a lie.

Instantly he berates himself for even _thinking_ it, but his mind continues with the thought. Could she be coming to him after being rejected by Chuck? Had she wanted Chuck and was settling with him after being refused? This thought concerns him, but it is of no matter. She is here, she is in his arms and she is telling him she loves him.

Though his heart is not appeased, he forces his mind to be.

Together they stand, cradling one another tightly as they stand in his room. Seconds pass, turning into minutes and minutes fade as he pulls her onto the bed with him. Lying in one another's arms, they wordlessly reconnect – reunited at last. Hours are spent within the sheets – reminding themselves of why they loved one another, why they were meant to be.

Both hearts were aching, though; minds attuned to another person despite their actions committed toward one another.

_Serena's legs are so much longer – so much more toned…_

Smothering the thought by covering her body in kisses, Nate tries to focus on Blair – the Blair he has won – the woman who commits herself to him… willingly, or otherwise.


	6. Chuck & Serena: Devastation

Waking up in the arms of a woman is not an unfamiliar feeling to Chuck Bass. But it is with shock that he awakes to find the slender arms of the blonde goddess (stepsister?) wrapped around his waist. Smiling slightly he is afraid to move, afraid to breathe – for fear of waking her. Fingers idly caress a tendril of hair that rests upon his chest, his eyes staring at the ceiling as he tries to comprehend the fact that Serena van der Woodsen is in his bed, between the sheets in nothing but a satin nightgown, head resting on his lower chest with her arms around his waist. _How did this happen?_ he wonders, incapable of recollecting the night before.

The hint of longing that burns dully between his thighs informs him that he had not slept with her.

Suddenly she stirs, her blue eyes opening; vacancy lingering deep within them. After a moment of staring into his dark eyes, it processes and she jolts awake, bolting upright. "Chuck!" She recoils and he chuckles.

"First woman to throw herself from my arms so willingly," he taunts her coyly.

She stares at him, incredulous. Then as her mind begins to unwind, defogging from her restful sleep (in his arms? honestly?) she shakes her head. "We are just going to pretend this never happened," she whispers to him.

But he begs and pleads, and she rehashes the night before – every last detail, starting from his conversation at the bar with Blair, up until she remembers resting her head beside his… closing her eyes for just a _second_.

It is now that Chuck realizes – Serena is the best _true_ friend that he has.

After their conversation he walks her to the door. Standing inches from it, he turns and stares into her eyes, taking her hands in his. "Thank you, Serena," he says quietly, humbly. "Thank you for being such a great friend." He ignores the aching, the longing that still tingles. He'd do her in a second – but after what she did last night, that hardly seems appropriate.

Smiling, she leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Then, pulls away while still holding onto his hands. "Anytime. After all, you were there for me – always are. Non-Judging Breakfast Club, without the detention," she teases, winking.

Neither notice the elevator door dinging until Blair's presence looms upon them.

"Blair!" Serena shrieks excitedly, glancing to Chuck. She rips her hands from his, about to bypass her best friend to give them time to talk. Mentally, she gives Chuck the will to be honest – to take the woman he loves into his arms and tell her the truth. Tell her he loves her, he can't live without her, he'd die without her beside him.

But before he can move, before she can disappear, Blair pivots and vanishes.  
And neither of them has enough sensibility to stop her.

"Chuck," Serena breathes the second the door has closed. She turns to him, pitiful gaze leaving her eyes. "God, Chuck, I'm sorry. I – ugh – such awful timing!" she explodes. Frustration emanating from her, she turns and flounces over to the couch, collapsing onto it. Soundlessly he follows – only then realizing he wears nothing but a pair of red silk boxers and a white undershirt.

_Oops?_ Leaning over slightly, he nudges Serena with his shoulder. "Don't apologize. After all, you know what she's doing. Coming to make sure I didn't change my mind; to make _ certain_ she should accept Nate's offer. She's going after second best, having lost her first option." He scowls slightly. "Nate has always made her happy, until I intervened. It's only physical, her mental attachment to me being her first. She's not the first woman to act that way around me, and although I truly and undyingly love her, I don't deserve her."

Incredulous, she stares into his eyes. "You are maybe the sweetest man in the world," she says in response. She swallows, mind trying not to think of Dan. Even Dan – poetic Dan, intellectual Dan – never spoke to her that way. Not one word came from the heart; it just came from reflex. But here was Chuck; the one they all mocked, criticized, even. Heartless Chuck, man-whore Chuck, the one who could never love.

But here he was, loving right in front of her.  
Letting go – losing love right in front of her.

Shifting closer, she moves to rest her body against his. Arms embrace him, tightly intertwining with his as she gives him a hug. For longer than she realizes she sits there, holding him. Her head presses to his chest and she exhales, fighting the tears. But as his hands press against her back, hugging her closer, she is able to hear the sniffling – able to feel the sobs that slowly shudder within his chest. She loses it, tears brimming in her navy blue eyes as she releases the emotion she's been holding back for so long – hiding from everyone.

Together, they cry. Together they mourn.  
Together, they lose a piece of themselves.


	7. Nate & Blair: Confrontation

It is after noon when Nate wakes up, naked body comfortably wedged between his king-sized down mattress and Blair's tiny frame. His hands press lightly against the small of her back, smiling to himself. His mind is still unsettled; restless in its warring over right from wrong. He _knows_ in his heart that he is Blair's _second_ choice. Though they were destined to be together – the stars drew their fates so long ago – her heart had been won by another. Is that how their lives are intended? Be together, get married and live happily ever after; always knowing her heart is secretly pining for another? Is he to slowly forget over time, slowly accept her regret over losing Chuck? Is he to be the fool to take her willingly, forgetting all her flaws? Forgetting how much she spoke of her and Chuck together; their times spent, the love they shared.

The love Chuck possesses, but refuses to share.

The pounding of his heart – in angst, in bitterness, in… anger? – it wakes Blair from her light dozing, bringing her to glance up into his eyes. Smile forms, trickling across her features (is it faked, forced?) as she leans forward. Ruby lips press their tender kiss to his own – his own unresponsive lips – but she is unaware of this fact, the fact that he is too confused to return her affection. Instead she pulls away, offering her smile still (so forced, so fake that it makes his stomach churn).

"Hi Natey," she whispers to him, nuzzling her nose to his. He slowly sits upright, though, and her smile fades into a frown. "What?" she asks, scowling slightly as she arches a brow at him. She is puzzled, perplexed. For a moment he says nothing.

Then he asks the dreadful question.

"Do you love Chuck?"

His hand upon her wrist suddenly burns her tender skin. She wrenches it from his grasp – recoiling. "What?" Her tone is that of incredulous anger, her eyes narrowing as she glares at him. "I – can't believe you'd ask me that. I love you, Nate."

"But, do you love Chuck?"

She fumbles, unsure. Searching hands locate her bra, pulling it onto her slender body. Then her panties – the same process. "Nate, why are you doing this?" she finally asks, refusing to answer his question. How is she to admit she loves them both – how is she to admit she doesn't know who she loves more?

"Blair," he says to her, shaking his head, "I can't do this. I can't wake up after we're together and wonder, _was Chuck on her mind, was she thinking about his limo_?" Blair tries to interject, but he waves her silence. "No, let me finish. I cannot, I will not let myself suffer this nightmare every day, Blair. All I can think about is whether you're here because you love me, or if you're here because Chuck turned you down."

She winces, heart aching over the memory of last night. "It doesn't matter," she insists to him. "I'm here, I love you – nothing will change that. Chuck doesn't love me; it was just a game."

Heart turns ablaze at her words. "Listen to yourself!" he explodes angrily, rising from the bed. "Chuck doesn't love you, it was just a game. Are you truly that – that – stupid? You know he loves you, you're just upset he _denied_ you, that he _lied to you_. That he _broke your heart_. But had he taken you, whose bed would you have been in – mine or his?"

She swallows, unable to answer. Tears flee from her cheeks, but words cannot be formed. It stings, because it's true. And he knows it.

"You need to leave," he instructs her. "You need to get out of here and go home and think about it – you need to decide, Blair. You need to stop pretending that one or the other of us doesn't love you – you need to do what you want. What your heart says." He moves away, locating his boxers and slipping them onto his body. He then disappears into his private bathroom and closes the door behind him – waiting for her to leave.

Soundlessly she dresses, slipping into her kitten-heeled red Prada shoes. Placing her trademark headband back upon her head, she takes her purse and slips from the room, refusing to acknowledge Nate. She walks home, unceremoniously tripping over the feet of a homeless man sprawled on the corner. She stumbles and catches herself, but a passing couple snickers regardless. Flustered, she runs the rest of the block, never stopping until she is inside the door to her home.

Dashing upstairs, she brushes past Dorota. "Oh goodness, long day with Nate! I need a shower, back soon," she flourishes into her private bath, turns on the shower and collapses beside the toilet.

Sobs shake her body as she furiously purges.

_This would never happen to Serena. Perfect, beautiful Serena. Everyone loves her, everyone adores Serena. She'd never be rejected by any man she loved, let along two in one twenty-four hour period. Though… Dan kind of – no! Don't think like that. You caught her with Chuck; caught her only hours after she was with you. She slept with Chuck, of all people. But – that is kind of… odd. For Serena, even. She may be trashy but Chuck Bass? She always swore he was never to get into her pants. But… maybe she's jealous? Annoyed that you beat her to Chuck? She hates sloppy seconds but hates losing more, after all. Oh, if only you were born a van der Woodsen, if only, if only…_

Dorota listens outside the door, concern flourishing across her face as she hears Blair. Crying. Vomiting. Suffering. Heart aches, but she does not knock; she knows better than to impede upon the privacy of Miss Blair. Her head would be placed upon a silver platter, no doubt. So before she is noticed, she slips away to the downstairs – waiting to be fed more lies of perfection from Blair's lips.

And for the next hour, Blair sits in the bathroom, staring into the mirror – staring into the eyes of a ghost. The ghost who had once been everything everyone had ever wanted. The girl who once had it all. The girl whose life has ended.


	8. Gossip Girl: Irresolution

Gossip Girl blast:

_What's this I see? Blair Waldorf, hopping a flight to – well, nobody knows. Looks like your former high society highness has finally accepted defeat._

_Goodbye, Blair Waldorf, and good riddance. _

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Girl_

Devastated, shocked and confused, three friends dial that familiar number and call – to receive a message that 'this number has been disconnected.' Then they see the letters, their names scrawled in perfect script across the envelope, in the writing of the one they know and love…

- - - -

__

Dear Serena,

I'm sorry.

_Love, Blair_

- - - 

__

Dear Nate,

You were right; never in my life had I ever imagined I would say this, but you were right. I love you – I have always loved you. Since the day we met, I always knew you would be so meaningful to my life. I dreamed of the day we would never leave one another's arms. I aspired to become Mrs. Nathaniel Archibald.

But not every dream becomes reality.

I never meant to fall for Chuck. It was, in his phrasing, a game. A stupid, pointless game – one inspired by lust and irrationality. But I cannot help the path my heart has taken. I am torn; torn between two men. The man of my dreams, the one I've always loved – versus the man who I never meant to love, but who I can never forget.

I don't deserve either of them.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I never was strong enough to admit this to you in person. I will always love you, Nate. Forever, my heart will hold a place for you; but I do not deserve anything. A friendship, a relationship – a life with you in it.

I hope you never forget me, and perhaps one day our paths will cross again.

And please – take care of Serena for me. I worry about her.

Love, Blair

- - -

Dear Chuck,

I hate you. I hate you for what you've done to me. I hate that you used me for sex. I hate that you lied to me, told me anything that suited you – just to get me into your arms again. Just to hurt me, then bring me back. I hate you for cheating on me, even if you think it wasn't cheating. I hate you for using my friends again me. I hate you for using Nate against me. I hate you for – everything.

But most of all, I hate you for allowing me to fall in love with you.

It never should have happened. Blair and Chuck – we were never meant to be. Holding hands, sharing kisses, making love; it wasn't supposed to be that way. It wasn't, and it never will be.

I want it to, but it's 'just a game.'

_I know in my heart that it is no game, Chuck. I know you're aching, maybe even as much as me. But I also know that you deserve better. You deserve better than a girl who was so needy, who was so desperate to feel __**loved**__ that the second you turned your back on her, she crawled into the next pair of waiting arms._

__

I love you, Chuck.  
I irrevocably love you, now and forever.  
And that is why I must say goodbye – forever.

There is a saying; a saying that is so dear to me. A good friend, my best friend, once shared it with me, and now I'm sharing it with you.

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love." –Neil Gaiman

I know what it's like to be in love. It is every ounce of hurt, every ounce of pain that Neil expresses. And every ounce of that pain, that vulnerability – I've felt it because of you.

_Because I loved you. Because I __**love**__ you._

__

So with this, I conclude – guard your heart, Chuck. It will ruin you, if you let it.

_I love you, I'm sorry, and I wish you all the best. _

_Love always with all my heart, Blair_

- - - 

- f i n - _  
_


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